


alone in town

by cowboylakay



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Eating out, Established Relationship, Fingering, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Arthur Morgan, Trans Charles Smith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboylakay/pseuds/cowboylakay
Summary: After a few weeks apart, Arthur and Charles spend some well-deserved time together in a hotel in town.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	alone in town

**Author's Note:**

> note: in this fic, both characters are trans men. the terminology i use, which are cock/hole/entrance, are ones that i use because they apply to me (as a trans man)

There’s a knock at the door, and for all the life in him, Arthur couldn’t help the anticipation and excitement that shoots through his system at the sound.

He stands from where he’d been sitting on the plush bed, pristine from the hotel’s expensive upkeep. He pads across the floor, boots and spurs neatly stored to the side of the room, out of the way and impossible to trip over. He’s dressed down to just his shirt, jeans, and loose-hanging suspenders, hat hung on the lavish mirror’s post. His beard is freshly cut to the trim he adamantly keeps it on, too bearded and scruffy to be a clean shave or stubble, but too short to be as bushy as a full beard, and his hair curls slightly at the end, damp from having been towelled down after his bath.

Overall, he feels really, very good.

His mood impossibly gets better when he opens the door and finds Charles, bathed and half dressed as he was, carrying his clothes from the day with him. There’s a small jar with a white label in his hand that Arthur doesn’t think he’s seen before, but it’s quickly out of sight before he can mention it. He’s also suddenly very preoccupied the moment the door closes.

Charles sets his clothes and that mysterious jar aside before his hands find Arthur’s waist, then he’s pulling him in. His lips find Arthur’s, kissing with the sort of desperation only two fools like them could muster, after weeks of having been unable to enjoy any intimacy on account of their moving around.

Cholla Springs, and New Austin in its entirety, near burned off the skin of many and drenched all in sweat, and while moving to Great Plains was a welcome sort of respite, it took them two weeks of travelling just to make it to their camp. In those two weeks, they had both been so busy with packing everything up, scouting out a new spot, actually getting there, and settling down. Dutch immediately put all of them to work, encouraging them all to scope out some leads and jobs over by Blackwater, a town that Dutch and Hosea once said was not any better than a pissing hole smacked on the edge of good land, all while trying not to rouse suspicion.

All in all, they both understand the desperation. Arthur leans further into the kiss, arms wrapping behind Charles’ neck to pull him in further, chest to chest as he buried his fingers in the long, wet curls, and pulling slightly. Arthur swallows the resounding moan, before moving his lips to kiss along the spread of Charles’ stubbled jaw, kissing along the lightning strike of a scar before moving to his neck.

“Missed you,” Charles half-whispers, half grunts, allowing Arthur more space to work with as he cranes his neck, hand moving to his scalp. He pulls at the sandy strands a little, a gentle tug that sprouts gooseflesh on Arthur’s back, which Charles then decides he doesn’t see far enough of. “Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this again,” He continues, hands moving faster than Arthur can see and unbuttoning his shirt. “Couldn’t stop thinking about _you._ ”

Arthur grins almost boyishly, if not for the aroused quality of his expression and the redness of his cheeks betraying how he felt. He tucks his head against Charles’ neck, hiding the way his mouth parts suddenly open at the warm hands exploring the expanse of his chest, rubbing and pressing against the hard flesh there. Well aware of his delightful sensitivity to the touch in that area, Charles kneads his fingers in, pressing against the muscles of Arthur’s chest, even cupping under them and pressing into the pointed tips of his interested nubs.

“Christ— I swear, Charles, if I don’t get my mouth on you—” Arthur says, which comes off as a whine due to the desperate tone of his voice. Charles grins then, before pulling off of Arthur, dragging him along towards the bed with little effort. Arthur goes compliantly, the both of them clambering onto the bed with as much grace as bears in a henhouse, at which they both snicker at before turning their attentions back on each other.

Arthur takes the lead in positioning themselves, while Charles strips of his remaining clothing and rids Arthur of his striped shirt, thrown to side haphazardly to be stumbled upon later, suspenders slipped down to his sides. He pushes Charles back down against the bed soon after, sidling in between his powerful thighs, kneading the flesh there with a reverence Arthur reserves only for him.

“Missed you too,” Arthur says, which acts as his only warning before he’s diving down and taking Charles in his mouth. The latter refrains from howling, if only because the hotel, while boasting of privacy, isn’t very private, hand immediately reaching up to bury itself in Arthur’s hair.

It’s a well-practiced thing for him by now, having done this for Charles enough times to know where and how to use his mouth. There weren’t many men like them, especially not in Arthur’s line of work, so he makes sure to show that appreciation with the way he sucks on his cock like a piece of candy.

“Arthur— Arthur, slow _down—_ “ Charles says not before long, fingers pulling at his hair to get him to stop. Arthur looks up at him with confusion as clear on his face as the wetness on his chin, to which Charles smiles a little crookedly, hand sliding from his hair to the side of his face. “Not yet. We can take our time.”

Arthur nods understandingly, wipes some of the wetness from his chin, and moves back upwards to kiss Charles. “Right,” He says in between kisses, sliding his jeans off at the same time with only moderate distractedness. “Can’t blame a feller for missing his man after- what, a month?”

“Two weeks,” Charles corrects with a smile, pressing more kisses against his throat as he does. “I’m your man now? Is that it?”

“Hope so. Been tellin’ everyone that you’re my man, I was thinkin’ about tellin’ the church next,” Arthur replies, grinning at the chuckle that elicits from Charles. His jeans are tossed to the side along with the rest of their clothes, then their attention is fully back on each other. “I did miss you. Ain’t know what you did to get me into such a fool state, Mister Smith.”

“I guess we’re both fools in that sense,” Charles says, smiling at Arthur with that sweet, private smile of his, the one that Arthur has only ever seen him smile when it was just the two of them. Arthur smiles back, before kissing him again, unable to get enough of him, straddling him and planting himself on top of Charles, the both of them groaning into their mouths at the placements of their cocks.

“Got something for you, to make everything easier,” Charles says then, retrieving the small jar from the nightstand. Arthur marvels at how he managed to sneak that from his vision when they got to the bed, but if anyone could be sneaky and good at it, it would be Charles. He shows the jar to Arthur, which he finally reads the label of.

“That so?” He croaks, dry in the mouth as arousal punches through his gut at the thought of the process. Charles nods at him, smile widening into something a little more heated when Arthur swallows visibly. “Well, it’d be a shame to not put it to good use.”

Charles lifts Arthur by the waist, turning him over and pushing him onto the bed. His hair splays out, sandy brown a stark difference to the milk white of the pillowcase, the bright blue of his eyes a mere ring behind the wide black of his pupils, cheeks dusted red and neck flowering with reds and purples. Charles wonders, not for the first time, if this is how painters and sculptors felt, seeing someone so beautiful they wished they could immortalise them in some way, to be able to look at the aspects of their beauty whenever.

“What you lookin’ at?” Arthur questions, though his tone is fond and his expression is soft. Charles smiles, a little embarrassed at having been caught staring too long, but he supposes Arthur’s fine with it.

He holds Arthur’s cheek, thumb sliding over his cheekbone to the line of his bottom lip. “Just admiring,” He says quietly, leaning over to kiss him, unable to get enough of him so soon. There’s a difference when he’s admiring from afar and up close, but Charles decides both of them can’t compare to how it feels to just be touching Arthur.

Arthur snorts derisively, an instinct, once Charles lifts his head again. “Not much of a sight to see.”

“If you say so,” Charles replies, going back to kissing him as languidly as he could. An argument for another day, he thinks, when there’s time for it and they’re less focused on other things. For now, however, they have each other, in the rawest sense of the word, and not even the world burning around them would be able to stop them.

“This is good n’ all,” Arthur begins, only interrupted by his own sigh when Charles sucks on a sensitive spot under his jaw. “But I reckon if you don’t start fucking me now, I’ll run wetter than the San Luis, so if you’re plannin’ on getting on with it—”

“Patience, Arthur,” Charles tells him through a laugh, the smile on his face infectious to the man laying beneath him. “We’ll get there when we do. Let me take care of you.”

“Soon enough you’re gonna have to,” Arthur sighs dramatically, “I’ll be an old man yet.”

Charles pinches his side for that, to which Arthur yelps before he’s silenced by Charles’ lips on his, his hands moving towards the jar and opening it without so much as a glance over. Arthur barely has the time to wonder before Charles is pushing his legs apart, oil covered fingers positioned just in between Arthur’s thighs.

“Ain’t I wet enough to not need that?” Arthur asks belatedly, fidgeting with anticipation as he angled himself towards Charles’ fingers.

“Doesn’t beat to have a little more,” Charles replies, and anything else Arthur has to say is cut off with a sharp inhale as Charles breaches with a finger, pressing into his hole without further gusto.

Not for the first time, Arthur realises just how thick Charles’ fingers are, and squirms under the sensation. It’s not like he’s never had fingers in him before — Lord knows there’ve been far too many lonely nights out in the wilderness with no eyes to see for miles on end — but the thickness of Charles’ fingers are evident, even from just the one inside him. It’s not long before he’s rocking back slightly, pushing into the touch as the quiet noises he’s been making up in their volume, eyes fluttering shut.

“Think you can take another?” He hears Charles ask, his tone having taken on a rougher quality compared to when they started. A small part of him rejoices at having been able to bring Charles to this point of arousal from doing close to nothing, while a larger part of him is begging to say yes.

He nods his response, eyes remaining shut from how the discomfort faded into a buzzing pleasure, then a second finger is pushing in. It’s still a substantial stretch, twinged with more sweet pain and slight discomfort, until Charles presses the pad of his thumb against his aching cock.

“Oh, _god,_ Charles— yes, _yes,_ ” He says, throwing his head back as he pushes up into Charles’ hand. Arthur can feel the slightly smug arousal radiate from him, but ignores that in favour of the press of his thumb at that sensitive bundle of nerves, driving more noises out of him that he’s sure anyone in the hotel could hear, clear as day.

“Quiet,” Charles warns half-heartedly, not caring who heard but not looking to get interrupted either. When Arthur blinks open his eyes, he sees Charles flash him a grin that looks smug on anyone but devious on him. “Don’t wanna get caught.”

Arthur barely has the mind to respond before Charles is bending down, the hair not clinging to his skin swishing around, and suddenly his lips have joined his fingers, sucking around his pulsing cock while the digits continued their sliding. Arthur just about yelps before descending into moans of varying levels, panting and squirming all the while.

“Charles, shit— Christ, yes, yes, yes—” Arthur whines, hands unknowing on what to do and grasping at the sheets under him and burying themselves in Charles’ hair. “I’m close, I’m _close,_ God—”

The pace Charles pushes his fingers in and out of him increases, along with the attention of his tongue. Arthur blinks his eyes open to look at Charles, see how he looks in between his thighs; he sees the way Charles is ass up, eyes scrunched up in concentration as he goes to town on Arthur’s cock and hole, and it’s all too much, until Arthur’s coming with a loud moan alongside Charles’ name, soaking the sheets with spend as he bucks and twitches under Charles’ ministrations. It titters off into a whimper as he fucks Arthur to the point of overstimulation, before finally letting up.

“Good Lord, Charles,” Arthur pants when he’s calmed down enough. Charles looks proud, mouth and chin covered in spend and fingers beginning to prune. “Oughta warn a feller before you fuck the livin’ daylights out of him.”

Charles laughs a little at that, a warm sound. “You alright?”

“More than, think you fucked the tired outta me,” Arthur replies, going limp on the bed before he recalls himself. “Now, if you don’t mind...”

Arthur moves again, ignoring the way his legs tremble like a newborn foal’s when he moves to sit in between Charles’ legs again, only narrowly avoiding the wet spot on the bed. “Let me return the favour,” He says, before licking an open-mouthed, confident stripe up from entrance to cock, delighting in the way Charles’ thighs close up slightly around his head. “We got all day, Mister Smith,” He continues, repeating the same action and smiling a smile that shoots sharp heat through Charles’ gut.

“Oughta make the most of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> i’m [lakay](https://cowboylakay.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
